


A Smile Untold

by ExistentialMalaises



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23038909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExistentialMalaises/pseuds/ExistentialMalaises
Summary: A snapshot of Penny and Alice's romance in timeline 27.
Relationships: William "Penny" Adiyodi/Alice Quinn
Comments: 12
Kudos: 20





	A Smile Untold

**Author's Note:**

> There's seriously not enough Penny x Alice content, so I took it upon myself to create this nugget.

The first time Penny actually meets another magician is at the entrance exam at Brakebills Academy. There, he is one of few prospective students whose faces are free of bewilderment. He’s not exactly an insider, but at least he’s not that clueless dumbass who shouldn’t wear sweaters. 

Silver lining. 

The wording on the test changes into figures, quadratic equations that he needs to align with finger movements. Penny’s never seen anything like it, but something tells him right from wrong. An inkling. Different from the loud voices he’s had to grow up with. 

After half an hour Penny notices her. The girl with blonde hair and dark glasses. She’s the first to finish the exam, her fingers wringing around the papers. The tension is palpable throughout her figure, most at home in her shoulders. He glances at the clock—even the nerdiest, most high-strung people didn’t finish this quickly in college. Penny doesn’t see much else of her. A sliver of her face, before it is veiled by her sleek locks, and she has skittered out of the room to the next. 

Fifteen minutes pass, and he gets to discover what’s on the other side too. 

***

Orientation for magicians isn’t all that different from regular college. That is, if Penny ignores the prancing stereotypes of the well heeled. They belong to a world he would never be a part of—doesn’t want to either. Instead, Penny sticks to what he knows and likes. Himself. There’s a girl or two he wouldn’t mind getting to understand better too, but for now… he enjoys the quiet. 

Contentment settles into his bones. It’s dangerous to relax, but he can’t help it. Penny has found a place where he’s not the oddest man out, where most of the voices in his head are silenced, where he can focus on the most basic shit like class assignments without wanting to opiate his brains. 

It’s pretty good, so he doesn’t think twice when she passes him, doesn’t even consider what he’s trying to do here. “Hey. Alice, right?” He has learned her name by now. Not through actual conversation—Penny’s not certain she does that—but from performing a spell in front of her peers during class. He is paying attention at some seminars. 

Basic shit. 

Alice’s body halts in front of him, and he notices she can’t still her fingers. The corner of his mouth quirks up. There is a lot that he wants to learn about her, more than the reputation she has managed to build within a matter of days, more than the flimsy rumors that fill the halls of their dormitory. “I’m Penny. We’re in the same—” 

“I know who you are,” she says, in a tone that he isn’t sure how to interpret. Nothing positive comes to mind. But that’s alright, he always rises to the challenge. Life taught him to. Her gaze shifts to the floor for a second, but then their eyes meet and she lifts her chin. “What do you want?” 

Penny raises his eyebrows, trying to align her manners with her language. She might be more distrustful than him. That, or he has to work on his charm. “ _Uhh_ , nothing in particular.” 

“Oh. Ok. I’ve to be somewhere,” Alice says, and pulls the shoulder straps of her rucksack. He doesn’t respond, and she doesn’t wait for him to. 

If nothing else, Penny is starting to get more familiar with the backside of Alice Quinn. 

***

“Circumstances are more favorable under a waxing moon. It’s cooperative, so partner up.” Lipson ends her discourse on _Mansell’s Primary Invisibility_ with a wave of her hand, and students scoot towards each other. 

Alice’s head faintly tilts to her left, then right. From what Penny can see, there is no one in her immediate line of sight who isn’t already paired off. She is the first to finish exams, number one in their year so far, but always last to be chosen. He slouches further in his chair in the back of the classroom, where he’s comfortable, not making an effort to find a partner. Then, with a twist of her body, her eyes land on him. He quirks his eyebrow in response. She isn’t exactly asking him to come over, but she’s in need of a partner. And, technically, so is he. 

Penny shrugs, grabs hold of his bag, and drops down in a seat next to Alice, all the way in the front. “What’s up.” 

“Hi.” Alice observes her notes, tapping her pen on the paper. “So, tonight’s a waxing moon.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Is that enough time for you to study the spell?” 

Penny scoffs, and folds his arms over his chest. “Fuck that shit. Do _you_ need the time?”

“No.” Alice wrinkles her nose. “Look, Penny, I want a good grade, so if we’re working together then I need you to—” 

“I don’t know who you’ve been slumming it with,” Penny says, glimpsing the sweater-idiot who fumbles towards a brunette, “but I’m actually adept at this.” 

“Okay… meet me behind the Tree House Dorm? Based on my notes on Circumstances, that’s a strong location for this spell. We can try to cloak a tree? I’d like to go for something big.” 

“Fine. Whatever.” Penny looks at the clock and gets up again. “At ten?” 

As soon as Alice nods, he’s out. Not much later, Penny arrives in his bedroom. Still unpacked and undecorated, because he’ll be moved to the fuckwit psychics when they discover his discipline. He sighs and dumps his bag on the bed, then pulls out three books: _Popper’s Practical Exercises for Young Magicians_ to master the new formula, _Ali’s Understanding Circumstances_ to do exactly that, and _Livingston’s Mind to Heart with the Wellspring_ to consider the psychological aspects for this particular spell. 

Though Penny lacks an official education in magic during his formative years, he has made one friend who has taught him how to deal with the voices, and how to survive everything else. One clear voice in all the static. Pennylearned early on that magic was real—not just something for dopey kids with their fantasy books, who need to excite their bored minds—but one of many, many complications in life. 

Unlike the magic in books, one couldn’t just wish incantations to fruition. No wishing. No wands. No toys. Spellcasting takes exertion, a focused mind and heart, and the curve and flex of one’s hands. 

What Penny has done to survive is not as complex as what he’s learning at Brakebills, but for once it’s something he wants to harness. He happens to be good with his fingers. And the more disinterested Alice seems, the more determined he is to prove her wrong. 

When it’s ten o’clock, he heads to the biggest tree house he’s ever seen. Bunch of fucking weirdos. Behind the construction, Penny finds an agitated-looking Alice. More wound up than usual, it’s a pretty sight. “You’re late,” she says, the emotion just as clear in her voice. 

“I was hungry.” 

“My time is valuable.” Alice says, and her foot taps rhythmically on the mossy ground. “There’s other things I could be doing.”

Penny sighs, and looks for the biggest tree that’s surrounding them. “You need to learn how to chill. I’m not even ten minutes late.”

“Let’s just get started,” Alice mumbles, and picks a tree. “Here. This one is fine.” 

“Oh, that one’s bigger.” Penny points behind him. 

“This is fine,” Alice says, and puts her rucksack next to her feet. 

The corner of his mouth turns up at her willful insistence, a new side he’s seeing of her. Penny nears her, and she immediately discusses the assignment, unaware of his simper. Together they center their energies, then perform their finger gestures in synchronization. A rush goes through his body towards the tips of his fingers, and the tree in front of them disappears from their sight. After a few hours of studying in his room, the spell is casted with ease, and the suppressed look of fascination that he receives from Alice is worth more than the grade they’ll get for this. 

Alice bounces lightly on her toes. A small smile is born on her lips and fades a second later. “Good job.”

“Hm. You weren’t that bad either,” Penny says, and picks at the lint on his scarf. 

Alice chortles at that. He bites his lip to stop from laughing, but his cool act is gone… and her smile is back. She shakes her head, and picks up her belongings. “I’ll see you in class.” 

***

Alice isn’t all that’s on Penny’s mind since he’s come to Brakebills. That would make him pathetic, and he’s many things—not that. But he can’t deny that thoughts of her are recurring. Penny finds himself wanting to talk to her more, wanting to learn about her. He needs reasons though, he doesn’t want to seem like a loser. 

In the few months that he’s known her, she keeps to herself. There’s a lot going on underneath her tentative demeanor that he’s eager to explore. Being forward with her only sets him back. He has had to change tactics. She is a slow-burn kinda girl, and he digs that. It’s different from what he’s used to. That doesn’t mean he’s not keeping himself busy. It’s a free world, consenting adults, the important shit.

But he needs reasons to talk to Alice, lest she get suspicious. Of what, Penny has no fucking idea. There’s a few more cooperative assignments that they work on together. Whenever one comes up, she turns to the back, no longer hesitantly looking at her sides. None of that nonsense. Now she immediately searches for him. It feels good to be wanted, to be considered an equal. They’re something that resembles friends, something new and different for Penny. But her attention is shared with the sweater-idiot, Quentin Colder Waters Don’t Exist, who flails around her like a helpless puppy when he isn’t too busy doing the exact same pathetic thing with Julia. Number two in their year, in direct academic competition with Alice. 

If Penny would have been more unbiased, then he’d appreciate the awkward dynamic between the three. But he’s not. 

If Alice were to socialize more, maybe he’d get his laughs. But she doesn’t. 

Anyway, a lot of ifs, which don’t get shit done. 

Reasons. One is offered to Penny when he’s smoking a joint on his bed after hours of preparing for tomorrow’s class. A voice in his head, distinct and unobstructed by static, his first friend. The voice is telling him to seek out Alice in their lecture hall, and offer his help. Penny doesn’t question it, doesn’t care to. It’s a voice Penny trusts, and it’s a reason to see Alice. 

When Penny enters the room, he walks in on Alice and Quentin who are seated on the ground. Bowls of herbs, candles, animal bones, and other questionable items are placed on the floor to form a sigil. “Oh, you,” Penny says to Quentin, who stares back at him with dopey eyes while all his loud and insecure thoughts come crashing into Penny’s mind. Penny sighs, but focuses on Alice who is never in his head. “What are you doing?” 

“A summoning spell,” Alice says, her eyes attached to abook in her hand. 

“Extracurricular activity?” 

Alice looks up from the book. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t. I’m just not doing anything else.” Penny puts his hands in his pocket, and his gaze wanders from Alice to Quentin to the door. “But if you don’t need my help, then I’ll fuck off instead.” 

“No, sorry. I do, actually. This spell requires four participants. Each one a magical adept.” Alice puts the book down, and Penny crouches next to her. “Quentin, could you get Julia?”

“Ok…” Quentin gets up slowly, and leaves the hall, decreasing the noise of hispathetic questions that Penny can unfortunately still hear. 

“So, what is it all for?” Penny peers at the incantation in the book. 

“My brother, Charlie. I’m trying to find him.” 

“He’s… dead?” Penny asks and Alice stares into his eyes, then nods slowly. “Alright, I’m in.” 

“Thank you.” Alice offers a small smile, then her finger moves along each line of the page as she reads what has to be done. Penny assumes it’s not the first time she’s reading those words. 

He wants to ask Alice about her brother, because she rarely talks about her family… but she’s focused, and she’s fidgety. He can’t help but wonder if this is what she was working on after every class. The nights he found her by herself in the library. She wasn’t running away from others, but running towards someone, trying to restore something valuable that she has lost. 

When Quentin arrives with Julia, they perform the spell. Once they’re finished, they stare at the rectangular mirror, but there’s no movement, no sound, no nothing. No Charlie. Alice stares in front of her in silence, her eyes glossy. Folded hands on her lap, and Penny’s fingers prickle. Julia makes a remark about how the spell is a bigger letdown than the last guy she’s been with. Quentin laughs, but Penny can hear his real thoughts and _really_ wants to shut him up, but Alice is still silent. His eyes wander between the three of them. Penny sighs to himself, he isn’t willing to be part of a foursome. That’s not what he signed up for. 

He straightens up. “I’m out. Let me know if shit gets exciting.” 

***

What. The. Fuck. What the fuck. _What the fuck_. That thing, the Beast, it came out of the mirror the day after they had performed the summoning spell. And it killed Fogg while Penny and the rest of the class were forced to sit and watch in the lecture hall. Fogg has died protecting them, he died because of them. 

There’s a thickness in Penny’s throat that won’t go away. He twirls a small pebble in his hand, then throws it in the pond in front of him. He came to Brakebills to take it easy, learn some shit, and fuck around. This is not _that_. 

He has to fucking leave. 

“There you are.” Alice says out of nowhere. She sits down next to him, then straightens her short skirt over her legs. “I've been looking for you.” 

“Here I am.” Penny clears his throat when his voice comes out heavy, then focuses on her eyes. “‘Sup?” 

“Nothing…” She brushes a few locks of her hair behind her ears, and glances at their surroundings. Open land meets a wide, glistening pond, withonly a few trees that curve around it, offering some shade. Fucking magical by earthly standards. “What are you doing here?” 

Penny plucks the grass where he’s seated, the sun prickling on his skin. “Enjoying the quiet.” He means that literally, but he doesn’t know how to tell her about the voices, or that it’s a sunny day today so the mind-numbing substances will have to wait until tonight. 

With a sigh, Alice speaks,“It is really peaceful here.” 

Instead of telling her about the voice, Penny tries the next best thing. “Yeah. I don’t think I can stay here. At Brakebills.” 

“What? Why not?” 

“After what happened—” 

Alice shakes her head, her eyebrows knitting together. “But that’s my fault. _I_ wanted to do the spell.” 

“I still participated.” Penny’s voice hardens, it’s meant for himself, not her. 

“You didn’t kill Dean Fogg,” Alice says just as sternly. “None of us did.” 

Penny touches the back of his neck, the cold of his fingers wakening his skin. “Yeah. Well. I don’t know how to live with his death.” 

“You just do.” Alice folds her arms in front of her chest, her voice weakens as she stares at the pond in front of them. “Throwing your opportunities away doesn’t fix anything. According to my father, Dean Fogg handpicked the students who are allowed to attend Brakebills. Given this institution’s level of ostentation, you can make that mean something. Or not. Suit yourself.” 

“Didn’t know you cared.” Penny lowers his lashes, and nudges her slightly against her arm. 

“I don’t. You’re dumb. Pretending to be all cool when you’re not.” Alice jabs him back, giggles, then her nerves seem to take over before she quiets down. 

A jagged spirit, but full of fervor, Penny considers. He watches her grow more nervous the longer he remains quiet. Her eyes are anywhere, but on him. “Hell nah, I’m the coolest,” he eventually says with a wink. 

She gives him a relieved smile, her teeth grazing her bottom lip before she turns back to the pond. The pink of her lip deepens, and Penny fights the urge to kiss her. She’s a slow-burn kinda girl he tells himself. 

“Hey Penny?” 

“Hm?” 

“How did you know I was in the lecture hall?” 

“A wild guess.” 

She jabs his arm in the same spot. “Try again.” 

“I…” Penny meets her stare, gripping blue eyes, and he winces. “Fuck. A voice told me to help you.” Penny wrenches more grass between his fingers. “Don’t call me psychic.” 

“Uhh, I wasn’t going to,” Alice says, and her nose wrinkles, “but you could own the label.” 

Penny shakes his head. “Psychics are a bunch of tree-hugging fuckwits in yoga-pants, who never stepped a foot in the real world.”

“You’re not.” Alice leans in, but stops when he squints. “So, what voice?” 

“Probably whomever the fuck we called,” Penny says. “I don’t know. A magician. I thought he was a friend. I was wrong.” 

“The voice is the Beast?” Alice gasps. “Does professor Sunderland know?” 

“No.”

“Aren’t you going to tell her?” Her voice goes up, the shock still there. 

“It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s already done.”

“ _But_ —Ok,” Alice says to his surprise. “I’m sorry.” 

He was expecting judgement, more accountability. Not an apology. He lifts his stiff shoulders. “That’s not your fault.” 

“Sort of is.” 

“It’s not.” Penny throws the grass away, and leans back on his elbows. Befriending and relying on that voice—the Beast—is something Penny did all by himself. “What are you going to do about your brother? Charlie, right?” 

She smiles at the mention of the name, then embraces her knees with her arms. “I don’t know. Keep looking. There has to be something else.” 

“If you need help…” Penny follows the lines of her curved body, and pushes out his chin when she looks at him over her shoulder. “Pretty sure there’s more shit I can fuck up if I stick around.” 

Alice nods, a ruminative expression settling on her face. She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t leave either. They sit in silence in front of the pond. No penetrating thoughts of others—just his own, which he needs to quiet too. But he stays with her until the cold spreads to his hands. Then, he returns to his bedroom to calm his mind in other ways.

***

So he isn’t just a psychic, Penny is a traveler—the rarest and most difficult discipline to master according to Sunderland. If it doesn’t kill him first. An amazing gift. Isn’t he just a lucky asshole. Then Stanley, the most unhelpful mentor, tells him to bind his powers with a tattoo, to solely stick to astral projection instead of traveling between worlds. A choice between his discipline or his life. The voices are there no matter what. 

Just fucking great. 

No matter how much Stanley insists on the tattoo, Penny hasn’t made that choice yet. He’s only been able to travel for a few weeks, and he’s in no control. There’s the girl’s voice that keeps entering his mind, keeps begging him for help. He’s even visited her now. She’s locked in chains in some dungeon, held there by the Beast. He came face-to-face with that all too familiar voice. Everything inside of Penny is telling him to get the fucking tattoo, but the girl’s voice won’t go away. Not unless he does something about it. 

For days, he’s been flipping through books in the library in search of something that resembles the crest he saw on the door in the dungeon. Nothing. He keeps coming up short. He can feel his headache returning. With a heavy sigh, Penny puts his drawing in the pocket of his pants, and walks away from the table with books. 

He needs a break. 

Minutes later he’s inside the Physical Kid’s Cottage, where trashy parties are a diurnal rhythm. The staple of the pretentious fucks at Brakebill. Case in point is the guy walking up to him, wearing a silk necktie. Eliot, fancies himself the king of the playground, if Penny remembers correctly. Eliot offers him a green cocktail with a sauced grin and slow diction. Penny almost refuses, but. Whatever. He’s thirsty, anyway. 

“First year?” A girl in a very fitted dress with a cheeky smile drapes herself around Eliot. 

Eliot emits a deep breath. “New flavor of the month.” 

Penny quirks his eyebrow, but the girl steps forward. Her fingers dangle around Eliot’s. “So who are you?” She asks, and Penny wonders how often they do this. 

His lips part as he follows her wandering gaze, inspecting him from top to bottom. When their eyes connect again, he chuckles. He’s about to respond when he looks behind the girl, and notices Alice. She’s seated in the corner, sullen and alone, with a green cocktail on her lap. 

He feels the girl’s finger twirl around his scarf, and his head flicks back to her. “I’m… busy,” he says, and strolls towards Alice. 

“This is what you do at social functions?” Penny perches himself next to her in the narrow corner while she makes room for him. When they’re both settled, their thighs are pressed together, hers barely covered by her skirt. “Be a wallflower?” 

Alice straightens her shoulders, then puts away her drink. “There’s no escaping the parties.” 

“I’m sure you know a silencing spell.”

“What are you doing here?” Alice says with a frown, and it pleases him.

“I needed a break. And since you’re back at Brakebills… I figured you’d be here.” Penny rubs his brow, then takes a big gulp of the cocktail. 

“Oh. Ok.” 

Penny looks across the room, and finds Quentin and Julia seated on the couch, talking with a bunch of people Penny tends to ignore. Then Quentin turns his head in their direction, meeting Penny’s stare instead of probably Alice’s. Penny gives him a dirty look as Quentin’s gloomy thoughts about Alice and Charlie enter his mind, then jealous thoughts about him. “Why are you alone?” 

“I don’t really feel sociable,” Alice says. Bullshit, obviously.

“Want me to leave?”

“No,” Alice mumbles. “You’re not sociable either.” 

Penny laughs at her words, seemingly trying to push him away and keep him close at the same time. “First time someone’s ever meant that in a good way.” 

“I just mean… stay.” 

“Alright.” Penny takes another swig, the cocktail burning down his throat. “I’ve got a thing, if you’re looking for a distraction.” 

Alice perks up, and looks at him with her big, blue eyes. “What thing?” 

When Penny told Alice that he was a traveler, her eyes lit up the same way. She told him she had only met one before, through her parents, and that now she knew two. Penny thought it was a weird thing to be excited about, but… whatever. If it’s something that makes her curious about him, he’ll take it. “I think I traveled somewhere. There’s this girl in a dungeon, she’s trapped, and I can’t get rid of her voice. So I need to figure out where she is.” 

“Oh....” 

“Yeah.” Penny bobs his head. “I saw a crest. It’s my only lead.” 

“A crest? I might have a book on that.” Alice jolts out of the corner, headed towards the stairs. “Come on!” 

Penny is certain that books aren’t going to help after all the time he spent in the library, but he keeps his mouth shut and follows her into her bedroom. 

Alice opens a closet, slides out an oak chest, and rummages through it. “Can you tell me what the crest looks like?” 

“I can do you one better,” Penny says while he shows her the drawing. Alice stares at it, but she doesn’t seem to recognize it. A stretch, anyway. She pushes a few books in his hands, and opens another herself. Thirty minutes pass, and Alice diligently goes through each possible book that might have something on crests, regalia, and emblems. Penny has given up a long time ago, and is enjoying the quiet in his head while he is discovering her bedroom. Soft blue walls filled with prints and sketches. Stacks of books everywhere. She’s messier than he would’ve guessed, but somehow it fits. 

“Ugh. Nothing.” Alice closes the final book. She pushes her desk chair away, and plops down on her bed. Thank fuck. Patience is a skill he doesn’t have, but keeps practicing around her. It’s time to change gears again. 

Penny tilts his head to the side, and saunters to the bed with three wide steps. “Yeah. That’s where I’m at too.” He sits down, and rests his knee on her bed, grazing her hip this time, and looks her directly in the eyes. “So…” 

“What?” Alice swallows. 

“Are you drunk?” Penny leans in, his vision lowering to her rosy lips, and waits for an answer. His skin begins to stir and tingle. “Tipsy?” 

Alice sucks in her breath. “No…” 

The words are barely out and she presses her mouth on his, giving him a taste of her silky softness. It’s only a peck, sweet and unhurried. Nothing like the knots she carries in her body, so palpable they come out in everything she says and does. But just as quickly as the kiss comes, it ends. 

“I, uhh—” Alice gets up, eyes wide, and she paces in her room. She’s such a different sight from only thirty minutes ago when she was concentrated on her books. A sharp mind then, slightly more erratic now. 

“Are you good?” Penny stands up too, but keeps his distance. 

Alice bites her lip, then laughs. “I am. It’s just—I can’t believe I did that.” 

Penny grins, reaches for her hand, and presses another kiss to her lips. Just as unhurried, no pressure. “You need to learn how to chill.” 

Alice nods into the kiss, and Penny tastes the fruity lip balm she’s wearing, then the vodka of the green cocktail they were both drinking. From soft and lingering, their kisses turn deep and sloppy. He can feel parts of himself stirring. Instinctively, he envelops her in his arms. His hands roam over her back, the side of her breasts, behind her head, and she pulls him down harder by his scarf. 

When he’s out of breath, Penny kisses every inch of her neck, memorizing what makes her moan, and sways her to her bed. Her legs hit the side of the bed, and he stares into her eyes, pushing away his own needs. “We can take it slow.” 

Alice, flushed and smiling, throws his scarf on the ground, and shakes her head. 

It’s all the incentive Penny needs to urge Alice on the bed, and explore what lies underneath her short skirts. 

***

“Oh, fuck me sideways.” Someone says in the distance. There’s a loud crash that disturbs Penny from his well deserved sleep. Next to him, he feels Alice’s figure stir and freeze in an instant. 

“Margo! What the hell!” Alice pulls the covers to her neck, and Penny rubs his tired eyes with the palm of his hands, then stretches his arms. In front of him, the girl from last night, apparently Margo, has fallen to the floor with some other girl. Their lipsticks are smeared, and yeah, no. Penny is getting a clear picture of what they are trying to do. 

“Wrong room!” Margo shouts as she stands up straight, then glimpses between Alice and Penny who wince at the shouting. “But we can change that.” 

“Oh my God, get out,” Alice says with a shrill voice. 

“Killjoy. Come here, Kady.” Margo pulls Kady from the floor. “You’re drunker than I am.” 

Kady grins. “Wanna bet?” 

“I do, actually.” Margo grins back, and turns to the door. Penny suppresses a yawn when Margo picks up a piece of paper. “Oh, Alice, _really_? Fillory drawings?” 

“What?” Alice asks, her mind isn’t up to speed yet either. 

Margo waves the paper at them, but Penny has no idea what she’s going on about at—Penny looks at Alice’s alarm—fucking five in the morning. “ _Fillory and Further_ by Christopher Plover? You know, what the drawing that’s crafted by a two-year old is referring to?”

Penny rolls his eyes, and leans closer to Alice, his voice laced with sleep. “What is she talking about?” 

Margo shrugs, apparently no longer interested, and drags Kady away with her. 

“I think it’s from a book series,” Alice says, her eyes going down his chest, then darting away. 

“Wait!” Penny calls after Margo, but she’s shut the door firmly. And he’s still very naked underneath the covers. “Fuck. Do you have a laptop?” 

It doesn’t take Penny and Alice long to find the crest on a wiki site. He doesn’t know what to make of it. Did he travel to some nerd’s sex dungeon? Was the Beast not only a murdering magician, but also a sadistic pervert? 

Then, ruining a good thing, Alice suggests talking to Quentin. Apparently he’s the biggest fanboy of all, one who is convinced Fillory might be real. An actual world. To say that the conversation doesn’t go over well is an understatement. 

Wherever the fuck that dungeon is, Penny has finally made up his mind. He gets the tattoo, and binds his body. No more hospital visits, no potentially lost limbs, no death. Penny likes living, especially since he’s got a good thing going at Brakebills, and with Alice. More to lose, and he’s not going to risk it anymore. 

Not when she’s crawling in his bed almost every night to relax after long days filled to the brim with analyzing, learning, thinking, studying. At night, she can turn her mind off and forget. And so can he. Once their minds have calmed down, and all the knots have left her body, he sees a different side of her, one that she bottles with others. She’s light, expressive, and even full of giggles and snickers as she discusses whatever occupied her during the day. 

It’s endearing, and with each passing day, a different longing burgeons inside of him. She shares the mundane shit with him, but he wants the deeper stuff too. He seems to want more. In spite of himself, he wants all of her. 

He doesn’t know how to tell her, isn’t sure if he should. Penny has learned that Alice is complicated from the first time they spoke. If he tugs and tries to loosen the wrong knot too soon, she pushes him away. And he can’t bare that thought, if he reveals his heart. 

So, when Eliot and Margo detail the third test of The Trials in the lecture hall, Penny’s eyes land on Alice’s back. _You must bear yourself in the presence of another magical adept, and expose your highest internal governing Circumstance. Which is to say, your utmost truth._ For fuck’s sake. These assholes know exactly what they’re doing. 

In utter silence, Penny and Alice walk into the forest, behind the Tree House Dorm where they performed their first cooperative spell. Far enough to be hidden from possible spectators. He takes off his clothing, and holds the bowl of black and white clay. Alice looks the way he feels—all raw nerves—and he wonders what her deepest truth is. He will find out soon enough, otherwise they both fail. 

Once her clothes are off, Penny outlines her face, her collar bones, and her shoulders with the clay, then waits for her to do the same. Her fingers linger on his skin, and she pushes out a trembling breath when he binds the rope around her hands. 

“How did you pass the first test?” Alice asks.

“I cheated.” 

“Do you cheat often?”

Penny raises his shoulders, the cold from the mossy grass settling in his feet. “I do what I must to get by.”

“I like that about you,” Alice mumbles, then swallows. “You own who you are, and you do whatever it takes. I don’t.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I’m pretty damn unpopular. You know that. People don’t like me.” Alice averts her gaze. “Can you imagine how they’d act if they knew how good I really am? I _always_ hold back. Every single day.” Her voice breaks, and he can feel the anger surging to his chest. “I have no idea what I’m even capable of, and I’m trying so hard to be anything close to normal.” 

“Fuck normal. And fuck people.” He bends down, and presses a soft kiss to her lips. 

The rope comes undone on her hands, but she’s staring up at him. “What’s that for?” 

“Because I like you just the way you are,” Penny says without blinking. 

Her nose wrinkles, and he can see the corner of her mouth fighting her emotions. “Is that your deepest secret?” 

“No. It felt right, though. Don’t ever apologize for the magic inside you.” Penny can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth, but that’s who he is nowadays. A fucking fool. She tries to hide her smile, and he’s not having it. He pulls her into another kiss. 

She pushes him away with a chuckle. “Your bonds are not going to come off like that.” 

“Fine.” Penny rolls back his shoulders, and clears his throat. “I self-medicate. Hard. Sometimes it’s the only thing I’ve got to keep the voices out. Hearing them, _all of them_ , my mother, my teachers, my peers, that girl still stuck in Fillory—it’s always torture. Non-stop torture. Sometimes I’m afraid… the drugs aren’t enough.” Penny glances at his ropes, but nothing happens, so he continues, “Being at Brakebills helps. Being around you helps. Not a thought that you let loose. All neatly locked up.” 

Alice nods thoughtfully. “It’s a screamfest inside my head.” 

“Mine too.” 

“Why didn’t your bonds come off?” 

“Fuck. Ok. Shit.” Penny sighs to himself, and collects his nerve, suddenly feeling hot. “Ok. Truth. I don’t just like you. I’m falling for you.” The knotted rope around his wrists loosens, and he glances at Alice from underneath his lashes. 

“You are?” She asks with wide eyes, and parted lips. For a second she doesn’t say anything, but then she throws her arms around him, and her warm, naked body squeezes against his. He feels a flutter deep in his chest, and hugs her back, a prickle in his fingers when he touches her skin. 

Oh, shit.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated.  
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://existentialmalaises.tumblr.com/).


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